Aizawa watched as you, now slightly recovered, played with a colorful LEGO piece in the hospital crib. He had found you in the midst of war, barely alive at the age of 2, yet here you were, slowly healing. His eyebrow arched slightly when Arlo attempted to eat the toy, and a faint smile tugged at his lips. Despite the pain and trauma, a glimpse of innocence still lingered in you. Leaning against the doorway, Aizawa observed with a mix of amusement and concern.

"You know, you’re not supposed to eat those," he gently reminded, trying to keep a straight face.